


Dirty Laundry

by scumfuck



Category: IT 2017
Genre: College AU, Eddie and Richie, M/M, One Shot, Reddie, friends - Freeform, i love them bye, richie and eddie, they kiss!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 14:27:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13549260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scumfuck/pseuds/scumfuck
Summary: Eddie, though he wouldn't admit it, didn't often maintain a calm demeanor.Eddie, though he would never admit it, lost his temper.And Eddie, who's had a long night, needed to scream.





	Dirty Laundry

**Author's Note:**

> (HEAVILY INSPIRED BY THAT EP OF FRIENDS WHERE ROSS AND RACHEL KISS AT THE LAUNDROMAT. ross n rachel i'm so fuckin sorry)  
> I DIDNT EDIT THIS ILL DO IT IN THA MORNING ❤️❤️

Eddie Kaspbrak was a dumb college student. There, it's out there, he admits it. Absolutely every aspect of living on his own (or living partially on his own) was brand-y new to him. So unfamiliar to the point where every new task he had to tackle, he needed to bring an experienced person along with. Nine out of ten times, spare that one time when a girl on his dorm floor helped him get back into the room he'd locked himself out of, that person was Richie Tozier. 

His childhood best friend had came along with him to New York City. Both were fresh faces to the city, yes, but at least Richie had some independence already. Eddie, however, did not. Living most of his life under the constant control of his overbearing mother had stripped him of many real responsibilities. 

One of those included laundry. It was about a month and a half into his freshman year of NYU, and Eddie had been searching for his sweatshirt- _that_ one _sweatshirt, where was it_?- when he remembered that it had a giant stain on it. _Ew_. The stain came from when Richie had accidentally bumped into him at the coffee shop, and it went all over him and himself. 

After looking through several other batches of dirty clothes, Eddie reluctantly decided it was time. Time to face one of the many difficult tasks he would have to in order to become a man. 

"Rich, come over please," Eddie said into the phone. The dorms had free pay phones in the hallway, and Eddie had also thought using one of those for the first time would be a good idea, too. "Nothing's wrong, but- Well, something is wrong, I don't have any clean fucking clothes, I need to go to the cleaners." 

"I'll be there in a couple. Don't breathe or move until I'm there," Richie spoke like it was a life or death situation, like Eddie was being held hostage by a serial killer and he was the Terminator, or something. That's what that movie was about, right? Eddie didn't know, he never cared much for action movies. 

Richie lived in a shitty apartment down the block with a couple other roommates (how he managed to find them, and pay for a fourth of their rent using his savings from the café, Eddie had no idea). He walked quickly, already accustomed to the bustling lifestyle of the city, and stuck to his word when he showed up in less than five minutes. He was wearing jeans and an old pair of Nikes, his hair a mess and a broad smile on his face. Eddie stood next to his plastic basket of dirty clothes and stared at him.

"Hiya, Eddie boy! Let me tell you, I was ecstatic when Lionel told me you called, really, I was just jumping with glee," he greeted, then smiled down at the basket. 

"I don't know where the laundromat is." Eddie scratched at the back of his head, staring down at his laundry. 

Richie bent to pick it up and held it like it weighed nothing, which was odd because Eddie was sweating after bringing it down the stairs, and turned to him. "That's not a problem! There's a super cheap one behind Alfonso's, we'll just go there." 

Eddie nodded and suddenly felt guilty that Richie had to drag his laundry around a couple of blocks. God, he was so stupid. 

* * *

 

When end they arrived, Richie pushed open the door with his sneaker, the bells jingling and slightly irritating Eddie. A woman inside smiled and waved, and there was only another man in the laundromat with them. He was old and didn't look particularly nice, in Eddie's opinion, but he excused it, because was anyone native to Manhattan really ever nice?

Richie lugged the basket in and placed it on top of a washer, then spun around to face Eddie. "Alright, Edward, take it away!" 

Eddie lightly punched him on his bicep, enjoying the short laugh that followed, and stepped up to the machine. 

 _Wait- how do I do this again? It's just a washing machine, right? I just- I just put all of them in, right_? 

Eddie was confused, but nonetheless flipped open the top and started to load it up with all of his clothes. Richie noticed, and quit making small talk with the other woman, before leaning in to watch. 

"Uh, Eds, are you gonna separate those?" he asked, a confused expression on his face. Eddie blinked up at him. 

Eddie laughed nervously. Oh yeah, you separate the pants from the shirts. Duh! He mentally slapped himself. "Right! yeah, okay, I haven't done this in so long, I almost forgot." He started to pluck out his pants, placing them back into his basket. 

There was a moment of silence, until, "Whatcha doin' there, Eddie?" 

"Separating?" Eddie continued to put only his shirts in. Richie's hand stopped his. 

"No, Eddie, that's not- Wait." The corner of his lips perked up, spreading a smirk across his freckled face. "You've never done this before, have you?" 

Eddie's eyes widened. He admitted his defeat. "Okay, you got me!" He faux laughed. "I'm a laundry virgin!" 

Richie's smile grew. "I knew it! And that's quite alright, baby, I'll give you the _gentle_ cycle." Eddie smacked his arm, pulling up his jeans before crossing his arms over his chest. The woman gave the two an odd glance, clearly listening to everything they were saying. Eddie guessed she wasn't interested in Richie anymore.

Richie moved in front of the washer. 

"For us, we do two loads," he explained, picking out Eddie's white shirts and underwear. "You got your whites," he held up the tighty-whiteys, "and you got your colors." He held up a red shirt Eddie had stolen from Bill years before, which was still huge on him. 

Then he set the colors into the washing machine, dropping the metal lid with a clank as he held out his hand. When Eddie didn't give him anything, he craned his neck over his shoulder. "Did you bring quarters?" he asked, as if it was obvious. And it wasn't, not to Eddie. 

"I thought we paid afterwards?" Eddie's shoulders came up to his ears in a helpless shrug, and God, he was such an idiot! 

Richie just laughed and pulled out his own wallet. He turned it upside down and, believe it or not, three quarters fell out, along with an old polaroid and a receipt from Taco Bell. He stuck them into the outlet, then pressed quickwash, after filling the machine with detergent. 

"And now, we wait," he sighed, checking the clock on the wall. Eddie was annoyed that he called so late, cause it was already 10 and he hated walking back in the dark.

"Anything else you don't know how to do yet?" Richie slyly asked. A joke was on the corner of his lips, Eddie could sense it. "Any chance you're a virgin to other things I could do for you, or...?" 

"Shut the fuck up, Richie! We're in public, dicklick." 

"I'm sorry, baby, I couldn't contain myself," he retorted, but not in a nasty way. He kept his tone smooth. "You just look so adorable in your little shirt. Is that the only thing that was clean?" He gestured to his small, shrunken, pale yellow shirt he had found in the back of a Goodwill. It shot him back to the night when he and Richie were high for the first time, and had gone out and done stupid shit. He was pretty sure he'd found it in the little girl section, but it wa a hazy memory. The print on it said, in curly pink letters, 'Princess,' and Eddie's cheeks were heating. 

"Fuck you, Rich." Eddie blinked down at his own shirt, instantly wanting to rip it off then and there to save himself from the growing embarrassment. 

"If you insist!" he shot back. Eddie wanted to clock him in the face, but he couldn't mess up _that_ face. 

They fucked around and bickered for about half an hour more, when the washer beeped and Eddie helped Richie remove the clothes and put them in the dryer. The other man and woman had left. On his way back, he noticed his basket was moved to the floor, and an old man was at his washer. 

He walked over. "Excuse me, sir?" The man gave him a glare, looked down at his shirt, and glared harder. "This is uh- this is actually my machine...?" He felt awkward, but the man didn't budge. 

"I don't care, kid. You move it, you lose it," the man said in a harsh voice. It smelled like tobacco. 

"Okay, but there are, um, like, five other open machines, and I was actually, using this one, so if you could, um-" 

The man grumbled a "fuck off, kid," and flipped open the lid, beginning to dump his laundry in. 

Eddie, though he wouldn't admit it, didn't often maintain a calm demeanor. 

Eddie, though he would never admit it, lost his temper. 

And Eddie, who's had a long night, needed to scream.

"Listen, asshole, I got here first," he started with a hot voice. Richie stood behind the man, shaking his head from side to side, his curls bouncing. Eddie ignored him. "This is my washer," he pulled out the mans dirty clothes and tossed them angrily into his bag, "Not yours! So, if you could be a normal and kind fucking samaratin, I would thoroughly appreciate it if you let me have my own machine!" 

Richie cringed visibly, and the man looked like his top was about to pop off. He snatched his own basket with a vein popping out of his forehead and moved across the room to a different machine. Eddie immediately broke into a grin, staring up at Richie. 

"Did you see that?!" he whisper-screamed, happily jumping up and down and gesturing to the man in the corner. "Did you see how independent I was? I took a stand!" 

Richie too, started to laugh and jump, and Eddie grabbed at his wrists and they jumped in joy together, whispering "I did it!" and "You did it!" and Eddie was like a little puppy after catching its first bone, he was jovial. His hands scrambled up Richie's neck and pulled him down, smacking a kiss on his lips as if it were nothing. 

But it _was_ something, and it left Richie flabbergasted. He stood straight up, leaning on the machine, trying to act cool and calm, but failing entirely. Eddie laughed at him and smiled broadly, proud at himself for lifting his own mood. 

"Uh- Dryer!" Richie exclaimed awkwardly, pointing behind him. "Dryer, right, I'll get those-" He backed up and tripped right over a bottle of detergent on the floor, landing on his ass in the middle of the laundromat. 

"Oh my god!" Eddie scrambled over to him, and Richie shot up instantly, his ears and nose red with embarrassment. 

"I'm fine! I'm just gonna..." He pointed behind him, to nothing in particular. "Yeah." 

Eddie grinned, wanting so badly to kiss him again, but waiting for the right chance to. He closed his eyes dreamily and waited for the washer to beep, and he could have fallen asleep right there, with Richie's face swimming in his thoughts. 

 


End file.
